


Me, You and Family

by neptunary



Category: Chainsaw Man (Manga)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Bonding, i guess?, the child abuse is barley mentioned but it’s sorta an underlying theme, this is ‘denji tries his best to be a good brother’: the novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29166354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunary/pseuds/neptunary
Summary: It’s always going to be Denji and Nayuta now...(A small look into their life, and Denji’s definition of family.)
Relationships: Denji & Nayuta (Chainsaw Man)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	Me, You and Family

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is the first thing i’ve ever posted here. i am not new to writing, but i am new to this format. i hope everything runs smoothly! i know this fic probably won’t age well and most of my head canons will probably be disproven. but that’s ok! i just wanted to give denji and nayuta some love. if you’ve read nayuta’s story “yogen no nayuta” you’ll see some similarities. in exchange for taking away nayuta’s speaking quirk of only talking in “violent” words since she doesn’t appear to do that in csm, i made her speak of others in third person instead. if you’re reading this when csm part two comes out and are really confused, that’s why! i hope you enjoy! comments and kudos are appreciated!

Denji and Nayuta were the oddest tenants on the block. Denji, with his oddly colored hair and juvenile sense of humor, and how every time a neighbor asked for help with directions and passed him a map he’d shrug and say “Can’t read.”— which must have surely been a lie. 

Nayuta was odder yet. The girl had a thousand yard scale most horror movie monsters couldn’t beat, she barely spoke to strangers and when the neighbors did see her talking to her… housemate? Brother?... it would always be some sort of question about when he could next but her a sweet. They were polar opposites in the most uncanny way. 

Almost everyone in the complex was convinced they were not of this country at all. “They do some sort of experiments in that room… Those siblings are the failed ones…” to “They must be foreigners, I’ve never seen that girl speak Japanese and I’ve lived here longer than she has!” 

Denji knew of the rumors. All of them were snot-nosed busy bodies with too much free time on their hands. He wished his schedule was vapid enough to be emotionally invested in the lives of others around him. 

Currently, in his backed wall to wall schedule, Denji was worrying that Nayuta would deck their white walls in brownie batter. 

“Here, you gotta mix it like this, or it’s gonna get everywhere.” He grabbed the whisk from her hand, battering the egg in a controlled, smooth manner as she watched. “I used to do it that way, made the whole kitchen a fuckin’ mess.” He paused. “Uh, n-not to say messes can't be fun, but since I’m taking care of you- can’t leave a bad example, you know?” 

She looked at him blankly. Sighing, Denji poured the brownie batter into the bowl. He was always one to talk to himself, but living with Nayuta was basically like living with a wall that occasionally asked mild questions- so his habit had worsened tenfold. He carefully placed the batter into a nonstick pan before popping it in the oven. 

“You want it a little raw, right?” He asked. She nodded slowly in his direction, although he noticed it held a little more excitement than her usual silent gestures. He smiled to himself at that, hoping it wasn’t only his imagination. After setting the timer to a measly 30 minutes, he went back to the table to unpack the documents the public safety department has given him at his meeting this afternoon. 

“Making brownies with you is nice. I haven’t done it in a while. Up ‘till recently, the most fancy thing I’d eat was wet flour with sugar. Thought it tasted like cake. Tasted like real shit though, I know that now.” His hands absent kindly danced up to the outline of the pull cord under his clothes. “Even though they always sucked, I used to make brownies with…” A small headache bubbled in his temples.

“Who?” She asked, and it surprised him. Nayuta barley asked him anything, unless it was if they could get ice cream.

“It was…” Denji tried to think back, to when the house was full of mirth, when the door would open and various shoes would block anyone from entering, and Aki would yell at Power to clean up after herself, and…

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Thinking too much of how it used to be wouldn't do anything. “Doesn’t matter.” Denji said, trying to sound his best like he believed it too. 

Nayuta looked at him with her thousand yard gaze. It was freakish, how much she looked and didn’t look like Makima. She had the same round, red and yellow eyes, the same empty gaze… and yet, she carried this childish innocence, this need for protection Makima never had. While Denji might have wanted Makima to wrap her arms around him and control his life, he had never felt that urge with Nayuta. She was almost like a little sister. Not in the way Power was, where he would have to keep her out of trouble and apologize profusely to anyone she might accidentally offend… but in a primal urge, in a “I want to shield you from this world” way. It was a strange feeling, and one he had never experienced before in his life. He hasn’t ever had something to protect before. 

Nayuta creeped people out. This was a given. The neighbors thought she was cursed, the super market owner preferred Denji left her outside while he shopped like she was some dangerous illegal dog breed, even the mail man would hastily make a retreat if he saw Nayuta’s big, yellow eye staring through the peephole. Through all of this though, Nayuta was well mannered and docile, the worst trouble she ever caused was when she brought dead animals home for no explicit reason, and Denji would have to give them to a Devilman at the agency and hope they didn’t ask questions. 

Though, if he did find himself in a situation where Nayuta had offended someone, he imagined he’d find himself doing the exact same thing he had done with the Blood Devil before her. Human emotions were strange like that. 

“Alright, stinker, move over.” Denji teased, bumping the small girl further down the couch lightly. Nayuta giggled, just a tiny bit, but the laugh was basically mirth to Denji’s ears. “What the hell are you even watching?”

Nayuta looked at the TV like it wasn’t full of blood and gore. Denji didn’t know if that was normal for kids. He’s been seeing injuries that would make the average nurse faint since he was 5 years old, sometimes even first hand, and it didn’t scare him. “Blood.” She answered. 

“Is this good with you?” He asked, giving a flippant look to the flashing television. She nodded numbly. Childishly, that eased his troubles. If it didn’t scare her, then there wasn’t any real trouble in letting her watch it, was there?

He wondered, quickly and skittishly, if he was a good caretaker. ‘Psh, I let her eat brownies in the afternoon’, his voice echoed back, ‘I rock!’ 

‘Yeah, I do!’ He answered back. He was glad he was in agreement with himself.

He cared for Nayuta, most importantly. He gave her hugs every day, careful to follow Pochita’s words. He didn’t read her bedtime stories, because, well, he couldn’t read (Yet! It was a work in progress!), but he did tuck her into bed and relay an impossible sounding, gore filled story from the day’s battle. 

He wasn’t like the old man, who would throw Denji around like a rag doll every time some alcohol had entered his system. He didn’t sneer at Nayuta, nor call her harsh words. And had no fucking plans on dying on her any time soon. He’d raise her properly. 

“I’m starting school soon, by the way, so I might not always be here. I’m not sure what we’re gonna do yet, maybe we’ll put you in school too. Unlike me, you’re already pretty smart, so you’d probably get all A’s.” He smirked, hoping to see a light smile playing on the girl’s lips too. Making Nayuta smile was one of his daily goals, although he hadn’t succeeded yet. 

She stared at him, her mouth in a thin, straight line. “You’re not dumb.”

“Huh?”

“Denji isn’t dumb. He feeds the doggies on the street, and greets me everyday.” She continued, looking at him blankly, “Denji can count higher than twenty, which he couldn’t do two weeks ago, so he’s learning. Even if he doesn’t eat the food I give him, Denji is smart.” 

Denji felt a lump form in his throat. “You… You bring those animal corpses for me to eat?”

“Yes. Denji doesn’t eat enough. Denji is working all the time, for me.”

“I… I do-...” It was rare for him to not know what to say. If Aki was here, he’d probably slap him on the back and cock a light smile and mock him for it. He felt like crying, although there were no tears left to spare. Unconsciously, his hand ran up and down his back. Nayuta looked at him curiously. 

“Thank you, Nayuta.” He said simply, not sure if he even could say more. He was moved his body closer to her, just enough that he could feel the fluff of her sweater on his arms. And then, against better judgment, he said, “You know I love you.” 

She looked at him owlishly, her vacant gaze drilling through him hasher then Makima’s betrayal ever could. 

He swallowed down the lump that had stuck in his throat, like a giant ball of spit, “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back. But.. I want you to be able to love one day. Even if it’s not me, I want you to love. Your reincarnation before…” Denji thought of how all the times Makima looked at him, she was really looking at Chainsawman, how she cried during that movie, and how she laughed at him when Power’s corpse stood on her doorstep, “She wanted to love things. But no one taught her how to love, so she hurt herself and others when she tried. I don’t want it to be like that for you.”

And then, without hesitation- “I love Denji.” 

He felt as if someone had pulled the rug from underneath his feet, even though he was sitting. ”Oh.”

Nayuta turned to the television like she hadn’t just altered Denji’s whole world view. She pointed at the protagonist, who was currently fighting a flurry of zombies. “This is the best part. All her organs fall out.” 

Denji laughed, and rubbed her head fondly like no one had ever done for him. “You’re a pretty messed up kid.” 

She didn’t say anything in reply to that, simply nuzzling into his warm embrace and making a light mewing noise as she supposedly drifted off to sleep. 

Family was always more of a concept than anything tangible to Denji. He hadn’t ever felt like the old man was family, and memories of his mother were too distant to be considered such either. He had felt something similar to “family” when he lived with Pochita, he supposed. And maybe if he had been given more time with Power and Aki, he could have been their family too. 

Yeah, he hadn’t ever known what family truly was, had he? Makima had made sure of that. It soured his heart to think of how the woman he had dreamt of holding tenderly, giving his life too, had ripped the closest thing to happiness he had ever felt in his life.

‘You killed him, didn’t you, Denji?‘ Said Makima’s silky voice, seeming to surround him on all sides. That question had haunted him ever since it exited her lips, but particularly at night did it start to get bold.

“I’m fine, just a bug.” He’d tell Nayuta as he had awoken from another nightmare, “Don’t worry, I killed it for ‘ya.” 

Denji had inadvertently killed every ‘family’ he had ever had. He killed his dad, even if he had tried to kill Denji too… Makima was right about that… He had opened the door despite Pochita’s pleas echoing in his mind. He had run his hand through Aki’s stomach, and felt the man’s warm blood soak his body. He kept these thoughts to himself, because, well, who would he share them with? Maybe a family wasn’t something Denji deserved. 

Maybe every time he got one, it was only inevitable that their blood would be on his hands. 

The girl between his arms irked him from his thoughts by stirring. He had never been good at thinking of philosophical stuff… but maybe.. she could be that family…? He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of it. Kishibe was already convinced the two were a pair of siblings. ‘Would he be exactly wrong?‘ That voice that sounded like no one he had ever met asked him. 

Ah… it wouldn’t do good for him to think of things like that. Carefully, as not to wake the resting girl, he set a timer on his government-issued watch for the brownies. He knew Aki would have killed him if he started another cooking related fire (oven timers by themselves were never enough to wake Denji from his slumber) and Aki’s spirit probably already had a million grey hairs from just simply watching Denji already. Power would probably eat the sweets anyways, no matter how charred and black they were. The thought brought a sad smile to his lips, but still a smile nonetheless. He missed them both. He missed them so much it hurt. 

He hoped he could show the love they had for him to Nayuta. He hoped he could be the sibling that they were to him. And, most of all, he hoped he could be her family. 

Denji fell asleep and felt safe.


End file.
